


Prelude

by bonibaru



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Smallville
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-23
Updated: 2017-03-23
Packaged: 2018-10-09 11:08:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10410804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonibaru/pseuds/bonibaru
Summary: Faith finds temptation in a Metropolis nightclub.





	

Metropolis didn't seem like much at first, not when compared to Los Angeles or Paris, but its nightclubs have the same pounding rhythms and strobing lights that can be found in every city if a girl knows how hard to look. And Faith has been looking hard. It's been a long week of rounding up fledgling Slayers and listening to their annoying chatter - the one in the stupid pink headband never fucking shuts up, and if Giles doesn't book her plane ticket to Rome by tomorrow Faith is going to duct tape her mouth shut and lock her in the hotel broom closet.

She pushes her way through the crowd at the bar and orders a rum and coke, but the words have barely left her mouth before she is tumbling to the floor under the staggering body of a stranger who's just been sucker punched in the face.

In half a second she's back on her feet, ready to seriously kick someone's ass. Faith _hates_ getting knocked down. The man who fell into her sits up a little more slowly, gasping. Blood from his nose splatters onto the dance floor in tiny droplets; the red stain spreading on the pale wood floor makes her shiver. He's slender but well-built, shaved head, black leather jacket, black leather pants, an emerald green stone set into the gold ring on his hand. He's also about to get pummeled again by two swaggering goons, one of who has inadvisably laid a hand on Faith and is trying to shove her out of the way.

Faith isn't the kind of person who saves puppies. But she is the kind of person who doesn't have a problem kicking the living shit out of sausage-armed assholes on general principle.

By the time the bouncers swarm over them, the hapless thugs are begging for mercy. Bouncers grab them by various limbs and haul their gibbering carcasses away. She glares menacingly at the two approaching her, but they stop a few feet away, looking at something over her shoulder.

Frowning, she glances back to see what's so interesting. Bloody nose guy is on his feet now, shaking his head, and to her surprise the bouncer walks away.

Bloody nose guy has been given some napkins for his face, and he's cleaned up rather nicely. She ignores his outstretched hand. "Lex Luthor," he says, smiling like that's supposed to mean something.

"Not interested," she replies, picking the rum and coke up off of the bar and turning away. He grabs her elbow - a ballsy move, considering he's just watched her kick the crap out of two enormous jerkoffs. She looks down at the offending hand, looks up at him, eyebrow quirked.

"Don't make me have to put down this drink."

His impossibly blue eyes hold hers for a second before he removes his hand. "I apologize for being so forward," he says smoothly. "I'm looking for someone with talents like yours, although I don't mean what you apparently think I mean." As he speaks he takes a billfold out of the pocket of his jacket. She looks down, intrigued in spite of herself. The roll of money peeking out from between his elegant fingers is thicker than any she's seen in a long, long time.

"Ten seconds," she says, tossing her hair back over her shoulder and trying to look disinterested.

"I'm in the market for some personal protection," Luthor says. He presses something into her hand. "If you know anyone who might be interested, I can be reached at this number - day or night."

She looks him up and down once, slowly, her eyes drinking in the supple angles of his body. He's elegant, a little weird looking with the bald thing, but hey - she's a convicted felon who's spent the last few years of her life hanging out with supernatural chicks that date undead Europeans. Who is she to judge anyone else?

"Don't hold your breath," she quips, with just enough of an edge to let him know she doesn't mean it, rolling her shoulders back and reveling for just a second in the way his eyes flicker over her body. She strolls away through the crowd, letting her hips swish in time to the music because she knows he's watching.

It would be interesting to stay in one place for a while, stop the globetrotting and do some recon work on the mysterious vigilante that's been in the papers all week. The Initiative has been underground for a while but the recent anti-crime spree in Metropolis has Secret Government Conspiracy stamped all over it. And the slender-hipped man in the black leather jacket is enough of an extra incentive to make it worth the aggravation she'd have to put up with from Giles and B just for the idea of bailing on them.

He did say day or night, but that doesn't have to mean tonight. The business card in her hand is wrapped in a five hundred dollar bill, and Faith's got a lot of drinking to catch up on.


End file.
